


Finding Courage

by Accio_Kilt (tari_calaelen)



Series: Keira's Thursday Vignettes challenge [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 19:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18037196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tari_calaelen/pseuds/Accio_Kilt
Summary: When a young witch is wronged, she must find courage to go forward.  A bit of solitude and support from loved ones helps.





	Finding Courage

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Keira's Thursday Vignettes on The Writer's Table on MeWe (dot)com and Facebook. Challenge for: 7 March 2019. Not beta'd...not sorry.

Title: Finding Courage (Thursday Vignettes/ The Writer's Table /7 March 2019)

 

The trees in the distance were already disappearing; the edges of the train trestle blurred in the white mist swirling ever thicker around her as she walked, careful in the placement of her feet on the wooden ties. She didn't need to see the ground between the gaps to know how far the drop would be if she slipped. The dampness in the air kissed her skin, her hair beginning to curl with it as her robes swirled heavier around her with each step. She loved the April mists, how they slowly blocked out the world, helping her think when her thoughts were so muddled. Pretending she was alone this far from the castle, away from all the activity, stress, and inevitable daily drama.

She'd first found this place in third year, while gathering potions ingredients with their class. Wandering farther than the rest, she'd passed through a break in the trees to the most breathtakingly beautiful view of the valley. She wasn't sure how long she stood there before the sound of her name being called broke the spell. Quickly casting a location locking spell, she vowed to return later. And she had, time and time again over the years when she'd needed a break, to think, to study uninterrupted, or to simply destress. Well, she definitely needed that today.

If. If. If... if she’d listened to Pandora’s warning and hadn't gone to Hogsmeade that weekend. If she hadn't agreed to stop at The Three Broomsticks for a drink before returning to the castle. If she hadn't left her drink unattended, trusting the others to watch it. If she'd trusted her gut feeling. Her memories of that evening were still vague. Sometimes she felt she should be grateful for that. Memories could be painful.

She'd been so ill the following week, assuming she'd caught the Wizard's Flu that had been going around. It was a blessing that Poppy had been the apprentice on duty in the hospital wing when she'd gone in. She'd needed her friend when finding out it wasn't the flu, and wasn't that a shock, sadly only the first. Looking back now, it certainly explained the odd behavior of some of her classmates.

The Aurors had been called, interviewing her before they had contacted Seanathair for permission to use Legilimency and Memory Retrieval. He'd been furious, though not with her. Never with her. No, he's been angry that he'd not been contacted immediately, before the Aurors arrived. Seanathair had shown up almost immediately in Headmaster Dippet's office, with both the family solicitors and her mother in tow, demanding to see her. Máthair told her later the Headmaster had endured quite the dressing down the entire walk from his office to the hospital wing entrance. How dare they interview his granddaughter alone, without family present! He didn’t care if the mediwitch and her Head of House were present. It was no matter to him that she was of age. The poor man's ears were probably still ringing. That thought amused her a bit and she felt a smile tug at her lips.

Pulling the letter from her pocket, it crinkled in her gloved hands as she unfolded it, the edges slightly dog-eared. The contents now committed to memory, there really was no need to read it again no matter how much she wished the words were something else entirely. Melancholy gripped her again. She'd been potioned--a love potion. Well, there was nothing loving about it. The thought of it made her bile rise.

The potion wasn't illegal but it was considered unethical and on the school's forbidden list. A prank they'd called it, when they'd been summoned and questioned later that night. Such betrayal! And from her own House! All for a lark; a bit of amusement. Pureblood entitlement, indeed! Seanathair would say it was all codswallop, deplorable manners, and a lame excuse for inexcusable behavior. They'd had no thought to the repercussions of their actions. None, whatsoever. 

NEWTS and graduation weren’t that far off. Her current plans for the future were now in shambles. Her potions apprenticeship would have to be postponed, if Master Lewellyn would be willing to do so. He and Seanathair had known each other since they'd been in school together, so there was still hope there. She sighed. Her betrothal contract with Alphard had been cancelled two days ago. He was currently not speaking to his parents. Maybe it was for the better. Pollux Black as a father-in-law would be a nightmare.  
Anger flared within her. It would be so easy to hate them--all of them, but she tamped it down. It would solve nothing. Máthair would say, “what's done is done. She didn’t have just herself to think about now.”

“Ah, I though’ I’d find ye here. Pops owes me a Galleon. She said ye’d be in the stacks.”

She pushed back her hood and turned to see Minerva approaching through the mist, becoming more and more visible as she neared the end of the trestle. The green Ross Hunting tartan of her robe evident first, immediately followed by the flaming russet hair. Minerva’s violet eyes danced above a warm smile as she held out her hands.

She couldn’t help but answer that smile with one of her own, as she was embraced. Her eyes stung a bit as she returned the hug. Stepping away moments later, they turned, stepped onto a nearby path and strolled side by side. Minerva slid an arm around her waist. 

“Eily, I’m so sorry I could’na come sooner.” Minerva tended to draw out her name so it sounded like “Aaeh-ly”. It always made her smile. “Pops notified me tha night, but I could’na get away.”

“It’s all right, Min. I understand. Have you finished your certifications?”

“Aye. Ye can call me Master MacGonagall now. I’m meeting with Headmaster Dippet while I’m here. I’ll be taking over the lower year’s classes from Dumbledore.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank ye.” Minerva gave her waist a squeeze. “Enough about me, now. I received yer letter yesterday. I’m sorry about Alphard. I imagine he’s furious. How are ye farin’?”

She shrugged. “About as well as can be expected under the circumstances. Mornings are a wash most days. I can usually stomach lunch and dinner. Most of my free time is spent studying for NEWTS. I’m so tired all the time now. Poppy, Gus, and Rose have taken to hovering. I’ve heard Cygnus is scheming revenge with Gideon and Fabian Weasley. If I were a better person, I’d feel sorry for their intended targets.” 

Minerva chuckled. “I certainly don’t. They deserve whatever they get, in my opinion. Especially from the Weasley terrors. If those two procreate, the world’s in trouble!” 

She couldn’t help but grin. “Definitely!”

“Have they determined where the potions came from?” 

“No. But, the Headmaster cast additional wards around the school’s potions stores even though it appears that nothing was missing. And, all years had to sit through a lecture on responsible potions use.”

“Considering who was involved, they could have easily brewed them at home or bought them in Knockturn. Do you know yet what legal action your family is going to take?”

“I don’t know the specifics, but Seanathair and Da have insisted on several charges, including,” her voice dropped to almost a whisper, “line damage.”

Minerva gasped. “I hadn’t considered that. Is there a chance--”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Poppy and Madam Pepperman are already looking into it. There is a proven connection between love potions and emotional damage. It will involve more time and attention than is required by a child born of a normal conception, but I don’t care. I will do whatever is necessary.”

“You know we will all be there to help along the way, don’t you?”

“Of course. I’m counting on it.” She smirked. “Whom do you think I’m planning on teaching him or her to ride a broom?”

Minerva stopped and turned to her, hand to her breast in feigned shock. “Och! Ah’d be honored!”

“I can hear the others now, all chiming in with what they will want to contribute to the learning process.”

They giggled together, leaning on each other. The sound of wings drew their attention as a large hawk soared toward them, silhouetted by the full moon. She held up her arm, bracing for its’ landing. 

“Hello, Bartle.” She stroked a finger down the soft chest feathers as Bartle settled and tilted his head at her. “What do you have for me?”

Minerva flicked her wand at the nearby brush, summoning a small field mouse. Bartle was surprisingly gentle taking it as the scroll was untied from his leg. Once freed, with a flap of wings, he and the mouse were off, a shrinking speck in the night sky. 

She skimmed the missive quickly and sighed. “ It’s the official court summons. Seanathair says I will have to testify the first day--the day after tomorrow. I need a cuppa and my friends.” 

They pulled up their hoods and headed back. Everyone would gather in the kitchens, be spoiled by the elves, and rally around her--just like old times. Good friends were a blessing, especially when times were hard. 

\----

She sat in the courtroom, hands fisted together in her lap, flanked by her grandfather on one side and her parents on the other, her brother behind them with his wife, next to her aunt and uncle. The family’s solicitors sat in front of her at the prosecutor’s table. Closing her eyes, she imagined them as her own personal guard, protecting her, impenetrable and fierce. The charges were being read now, the clerk’s voice echoing in the vast chamber despite how full it was. Her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. She could do this! 

Her grandfather reached down and unclasped her hands, enfolding them within his larger ones massaging her fingers. “Breathe, Mo Chaileag. Ye can do this.” 

She glanced up into those brilliant blue eyes, so unlike her own and only saw love. “I love you, Seanathair.”

“And I, you, Mo Chaileag. You are a strong young woman. Just tell them the truth of it and justice will be served. Then we can get on with things. I’ve a great grandchild to prepare for.” 

A warm feeling bloomed inside her chest, as she smiled. “Yes, I can.”

She sat a bit straighter as her name was called. “Alright, then.”

The door of the witness box closed with a click as she sat, arranging her robes around her. Folding her hands in her lap, she took a deep breath before settling her gaze on the occupants of the defendant’s table, noticing they seemed a bit more disconcerted than they’d been when they’d first entered the courtroom. 

Her solicitor rose and approached. “State your name and house for the record, please.”

Reminding herself that she was the victim here and had no secrets, she raised her chin and gazed down her nose at those who had wronged her. Her voice rang clear and sharp. 

“Eileen Caoilainn Prince, of the Ancient and Noble House of Prince.”

\------------  
\------------  
Irish Gaelic translations:

Seanathair -- grandfather  
Máthair -- mother  
Mo Chaileag -- my girl or my sweet (depends on the translator I used)


End file.
